Ghosts That We Knew
by temporaryinsanity91
Summary: Superman is back, and as he pursues his dreams with Lois, they realize that they still have trauma, ghosts from their time apart that weigh on them. But those things will never stop Superman from fulfilling his purpose, nor Clark from living his dreams. T just in case. Post-JS: JS possible spoilers.


Even though he'd had a short time with Lois and his mother, the disaster in Russia with Steppenwolf had left Clark rather uncertain about what to do with his reappearance. Clearly he had to make things right with Lois. She was under the impression that he would have been disappointed in her after he'd... died.

He'd _died._ He swallowed hard as he processed that thought, letting the heaviness of that reality sink in. Then, he shook his head, clearing that weight out of it. He could never be disappointed in her; he knew her pain. The idea of living in the world without her, without his hope, was what finished giving him the courage to pick up that spear and fly to his impending death. But seeing her, normally fearless and strong, seeming like bird with an injured wing made him wish he had found another way, one that didn't include dying.

But alas he did, and now he was very not dead—it was strange, waking up after being dead. Confused and somewhat afraid, mostly of his own emotions and abilities as he seemed to be acting like someone completely different than who he was... which was also strange because he didn't even really remember much about who he was or what had happened... he'd been grounded only by her voice, by her soft hands and warm embrace. He wanted to do right by her—by all of them.

He'd thought about staying out of sight—more for the sake of the team Bruce had assembled, as he'd ended up being the sort of wild card the team needed in order to defeat Steppenwolf and that could be the case in the future.

He'd spoken to all of them afterwards regarding this just two days before, and Barry was the first one to shake his head.

" _No way. We brought you back because we needed you to be part of this team. Your not just a tool, the ace up anyone's sleeve. You're a badass, bro. Own that shit."_

 _Diana thought about this and nodded. "I agree. You were meant to be an equal part in this collaboration. I think we would all prefer to have you at our side and be able to count on your abilities, and not just wait in secret to be useful." Then she gave him one of her trademark soft smiles. "You are important to us because you are alive, Kal-El."_

 _The boy with the metal armor—Victor, he learned his name was—glanced at Diana and his normally impassive demeanor softened some. Clark realized that she had an intense effect of encouragement on everyone around her. He decided to let himself be encouraged by her also._

 _Bruce patted him on the shoulder and then turned away. "When I brought you up to the group, I was feeling... pretty insecure, if I'm honest. I have a lot of regrets about that day, and about what happened to you. I always will." He glanced over his shoulder in a pointed glare. "I still don't like you." Then he resumed his relaxed stance. "Even so, there's something about you... about Diana... hell, even Merman wherever the hell he is now—you all inspire trust and hope in the people around you. Me, I'm a fly-by-night kind of guy, and you know this. The thing that makes me good at what I do is that I embrace my darkness. But you all... just embody light. I knew I couldn't lead a team like from where I come from."_

 _Diana was already shaking her head. "Bruce..."_

" _No, let me finish. We need you here one hundred percent. You can't be in the shadows, that's not you. Pretending to still be dead, hiding yourself from the world—that's not who you are. You're here and you're a part of this because you truly do represent the light at the end of the tunnel for people everywhere. You're the hope of this operation. Just like Diana is the truth of it, and Arthur and Barry are the strength and Victor is the knowledge of it. We all have a part in bringing justice and peace here."_

" _And what are you in it?" Clark asked in amusement._

 _Bruce looked over at him and grinned. "The money of it, duh. Justice is never free."_

Clark let the memory of how that ended calm him. They'd ended that conversation with the consensus that Superman would return in his full glory and that each individual would return to their responsibilities as people and as heroes until they needed to come together again. They also came to the consensus, after Bruce's abnormally open-hearted speech, that their collective would be known as the Justice League. Simply knowing that he could rely on a circle of friends that understood him made him feel significantly less anxious about the task of coming back from the dead.

He squared his shoulders, adjusted the plain navy tie he put on over his plaid shirt, shrugged into his favorite jacket, and then grabbed his glasses. Then took his bike and left home. Time to come back to his other circle of friends.

And to Lois. And he had plans for her...

* * *

The bike ride was normally short but this time,he felt as if he could have cycled around the entire planet in the time it took him to get to... well, the Planet. He chained his bike in corner of the large promenade that lead up to the skyscraper, where they'd thoughtfully included a free, secure, bicycle rental service as well as rows of empty racks for people to secure their own bikes.

Then he pushed through the glass doors and walked toward the elevator, hoping he would be alone. He wasn't. A pile of people surged into the elevator after him, pressing various buttons and chattering amongst themselves. He asked them for floor 68. a blonde woman pressed the correct button and turned to him with a curious expression. Thankfully, she arrived at floor 28 and exited before she could attempt to start a conversation that would no doubt be flirtatious.

The elevator climbed, and more people exited before he finally arrived. The door dinged and opened, and he came face to face with Perry White, who stared at him in utter disbelief until the doors started to close. They both reached for them at the same time, still staring at each other in stunned and awkward silence.

The next thing Clark heard was a shriek, and then a streak of brunette barreled past Perry and almost knocked him back into the elevator. "How are you even here?!"

Clark coughed to hide a chuckle. "It's good to see you too, Jenny."

"It's good to see you? It's good to _see you?!_ It's good to see you, he says, Perry. Do you even hear this? He just walks in like any other day and says it's good to see us. Like he wasn't dead or anything. Get in here Kent, you asshole, you have some explaining to do." She yanked him off the elevator and marched him into the office. "Lois! Look what the cat dragged back from the literal, actual dead."

Clark's amusement vanished instantly, and he pulled his arm out of Jenny's grip, yanking her to a halt. This was not what he was planning on—

"What are you talki—oh my... Clark?" He saw her swallow, her eyes still showing disbelief, although not as much surprise. She'd been there when he came back, after all. Slowly, like she did then, she approached him, carefully reaching for his hands, trailing her fingers up his arms and into his hair where she finally pulled him against her.

He felt like he could breathe again as he wrapped her in a tight embrace. "I'm here," he said into her hair.

"You're here," she breathed, burying her face in his chest. Then, she began to cry in earnest. Clark felt his chest cracking open—now that he knew how that felt like literally, he knew the feeling was comparable—and squeezed his eyes closed, crushing her against him as tightly as he could without hurting her.

"Please don't cry, Lo," he pleaded. "I'm here. I promised you I would make this right," he murmured. "I'm not going to leave you again."

She shook her head. "That's not true," she whispered. "I'll always have to let you go—and if something—I can't do this again. I can't lose you again."

He pressed his lips into her hair for a moment, just holding her. Having been away from her for so long after such a short moment together, he understood the sudden emotion. Before, she'd been worried about him, and curious, and probably a bit afraid—seeing your dead loved one live and in person is rare—but she'd not processed her own feelings with him. Knowing her, she'd tried to go back to being that fearless, no nonsense woman that he met and fell in love with. He knew she was in there somewhere. Grief, as strong an emotion and experience as it was, it didn't change people like Lois. It only made them stronger.

He pulled away enough to look her in her eyes, a beautiful blue-green-gray that shifted depending on the light she was in, and gave her a half smile. "You won't lose me again."

She was desperate to be hopeful, he could tell. She wanted to just nod and believe him, but there was some measure of fear holding her back. He understood that she was sort of gun-shy now, but he knew it was temporary. He could see in her eyes how she loved him, and that was what gave him the courage to take her hands and continue with his plan. Come here," he said leading her into the office and seating her at her desk. He asked Jenny to grab her a cup of water and then he knelt in front of her. With one hand, he raised her chin. Then he pressed one finger to each of her shoulders. When she realized what he was doing, she complied and straightened, smiling at the approval in his eyes. "There," he said. Then he took both of her hands. "I could never be disappointed in you."

She shook her head. "But I was..."

"I know. But that doesn't change who you are. You are strong, Lois. You are... incredible and talented, and full of compassion and love. None of that changed. You didn't change. You're still you. Lo, my beautiful, strong, _brave_ Lo." He shook his head. "I'd rather die again, and a thousand times over, than be responsible for changing even one of those things."

She shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. She opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came out. Instead, she just watched as he slipped the ring she wore off her finger and put it in his pocket. "Why?" she whispered.

Clark stared at their hands. "That will always be about the time you thought you lost me forever. I don't... I don't want you to be afraid anymore. Besides, the only thing I regret is that I never got the chance to do this right."

She shook her head again, this time in warning. "Clark..."

"Don't argue," he said, and when he looked up at her again, he was grinning, and his eyes were sparkling with mischief.

"Clark," she warned.

"Lois," he countered, his smile widening.

"I have water," Jenny said, interrupting the moment. Clark took the cup from her and offered it to Lois, who took it and drank it quickly, surprised at having her thirst soothed even thought she didn't even know she was thirsty.

Still it was enough time for Clark to shift his weight on to one knee and pull another black velvet bag out of his jacket pocket.

This time, two rings fell out of it, instead of one. Both were bands, white gold, except the smaller one was inlaid with a row of tiny stones, cut uniquely in an alternating baguette and round stone pattern. She stared at his palm, and then at his face. Irritatingly, he was just smiling brilliantly.

"Lois Lane, will you marry me?"

She nodded, dumbfounded, and then she glared. "Yes. I hate you."

He laughed. "Today?"

Her jaw dropped. Then she remembered that he was holding two rings, not one.

He was still grinning when he kneeled up so that he could kiss her lips, pushing her legs slightly apart so that he could be closer to her. "Please?" he said, his voice just for her. "I want you to know always that I will never leave your side, no matter where I am. You're still my world, you always will be. Marry me, Lois. Right now. Let's spend forever together."

Two things warred in her mind: utter fear and terror at the idea of marrying him and then losing him, and the overwhelming desire to marry him and run away with him. Finally, she drew a shaking breath. "I... don't have a dress," she managed.

Clark rolled his eyes. "You don't need a _dress._ You're beautiful and perfect right now." She was wearing a brown pencil skirt and a white blouse with black polka dots, hardly wedding attire. He kissed her again, his tongue pleading, caressing, and convincing. "Please."

Whatever alien Kryptonian voodoo supertongue his man had—or, err—it—dammit, he was making her quiver. She stopped caring about her clothes, or about the suddenness of his new proposal, or what it meant that he'd chosen to do this here, or English. She'd do whatever he wanted if he just kept kissing her like that. In fact, if she spent the rest of forever knowing that she could always receive this kiss from him, none of those other things mattered. It almost made her mad.

He was grinning again when he felt her acquiescence, slowing the deep kiss into tiny ones on her lips, cheeks, even her nose. "You're gonna marry me?" He asked between pecks.

She nodded, giving in with a short giggle. "Yes." She wiped at her eyes for a second before searching his hands out with hers again.

"Today?"

"Only if you let me up."

He stood and then pulled her into his arms, both laughing with joy as he spun her and the random crowd that had gathered laughed and applauded. Relief flooded through his whole body, and for the first time since he came back, he felt alive.

* * *

He'd had to Superman it to Kansas to get his mother, but he didn't mind, and she loved it. It had also given Lois what she deemed was sufficient time to make herself He'd switched to a black suit and tie, and he paced outside the court house in front of his mother for what seemed like an eternity, while she watched him in loving amusement.

Perry and Jenny, who had witnessed the whole proposal in stunned silence were still looking at him like his existence baffled them—and it probably did. He smiled when he saw Diana approach them, dressed in a red skirt and black blouse, coppery-colored jewelry making her look classically elegant. "You actually came?"

"I was honored at the invitation," she said with a smile, wrapping Clark in a hug. "I would not have missed it. Bruce, on the other hand..."

Clark waved the comment away with the chuckle. "I figured."

"But, I still wanted to personally wish you the very best. You are very lucky, Clark." She said the last part with that gentle smile of hers, but sadness in her eyes.

Jenny blatantly gawked at her while Clark introduced everyone, and then he went back to pacing. He only made it three steps before he saw Lois coming down the sidewalk. She was wearing a knee-length dress that was silvery-white and high necked, making her body seem somehow leaner and her curves more smooth, if that was even possible. Her strawberry hair was curled and fell over her left shoulder. Clark gawked at her until she tucked herself into his side, smiling up at him shyly. She rarely wore more than mascara, but today she had done a grayish, dark line around her eyes that made the blue of them stand out, and paired with that peachy-nude lipstick she always wore, it made her look almost angelic.

He pressed his lips to the side of her head, whispering in her ear how truly stunning she was and how much he adored her. She returned the affections with whispers of her own, each lost in each other's embrace until they reached the appropriate courtroom and their witnesses, amused and touched, seated themselves in the benches with other witnesses to other wedding parties—it looked like there were two.

The judge said things, and made them repeat things after him—neither fully followed, nor cared, except for the vows, where Clark happily pointed out that not even death could separate them anymore, and then they were husband and wife. He swept her into his arms and into his kiss like he'd never kissed her before, and she, just as swept away, held on to him, for the first time since she could touch him again, without fear.

* * *

In the morning, she was sitting in the sunlight with her notebook in her hand, partly giddy with the insane day that had passed, and partly mad at herself for acting like such a school girl. She had her notebook in her lap, and in it, she was deciding whether or not to change her name... and what her signature would be.

She was signing his name with hers over and over like a thirteen year old. _Lois Lane Kent. Lois Lane-Kent. Clark and Lois Kent. Mr. and Mrs. Clark Kent._ Oh, she had it bad.

He had it worse. "Good Morning, Mrs. Kent," he said in her ear, making her jump. She flushed bright red and slammed her notebook shut before glaring at him. He was smiling innocently. "Mrs. Lane Kent? Mrs. Lane-dash-Kent? I happen to like Mrs. Lois Kent the best but you can—"

"Clark."

One of the things he'd found out about her as they had progressed in their relationship was that she was hilariously irkable. In public, especially while working on a projector while dealing with Superman in a professional way, she was the image of calm, collected, and focused: never a poorly-intoned word, never a curse, never a hair out of place. But when she was alone with him, if he made just the right jokes, made her jump, or managed to fluster her, it was the single most amusing thing he could ever do. It was even better when he smiled at her just so and made her get all irritable and flustered. He loved it and he loved her for it.

Today, he'd seen her sneak out of bed and onto the balcony of their hotel—a recently un-dead guy on a budget, Clark had managed to snag a weekend plus one day for them in the Florida Keys, although he felt like that was utterly underwhelming for what she deserved—and into the sun with her journal in her hand. That journal still had a hole in it.

When he was certain she was deeply entertained, he snuck up behind her and watched her. Out of respect, he chose not to spy in her journal at first. But then, seeing her flush bright red more than once, he got curious and took a quick peek. It was difficult to hold his utter joy in, so he decided to get her to share in his joy too. But first, he had to fluster her a little bit.

And she was easily flustered. He grinned his brightest, most winning smile. "You know I'll love you no matter what you choose."

"Yes, I'm stuck with you now," she answered dryly.

"You very much are, Mrs...?"

"Lane Kent," she growled. "Officially Lane Kent. Are you happy?"

"Beyond measure," he answered, finally dropping the teasing and scooping her into his lap so that he could kiss her properly. Then he gave her that winning smile again. "Although I didn't know you were also named, 'Officially'."

"Dammit," she hissed, and he burst into laughter. She shoved at him but he just held her closer, kissing along her shoulder to her neck, still chuckling.

"I love you, Lois," he said against her skin.

He saw her smile, a real smile—the kind that lit up her face and made her eyes sparkle—for the first time since he came back.

"I love you, Clark," she said quietly.

He didn't say anything else. He just picked her up and carried her back inside.

* * *

It was dark when Lois opened her eyes again. After a long morning in with her new husband, they'd wandered down to the beach and played in the water like kids before going back to the hotel and ordering room service, where they fed each other dinner in bed, laughing and kissing and making love until they fell asleep.

She lifted her arms over her head and stretched before reaching over, her hand meeting cool mattress. Her finger caught the dim light, and she stared at it. Then she pressed her hand to her mouth and started to giggle. She laughed so hard that tears squeezed to her eyelids. When she registered the wetness, her laughter turned into sobs.

"Lois?"

She jumped, the scare stopping her tears in their tracks. She glanced up and saw him sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand resting gently on her ankle, and love making his eyes shine in the dark. He was in his newly-repaired superman suit.

She hiccuped. "I... don't know what's wrong with me, I..."

He just shrugged. "I was dead a few weeks ago and now we're married. It's, uh, it would be confusing for anyone. It is for me, too," he said honestly.

"Do you think we weren't ready? I mean..."

He shook his head, smiling. "If we'd wait until we're 'ready' we'd both be ashes, a few times over." He shifted on the bed, turning so that he was facing her completely. "I wish I could take your pain away," he said sincerely. "All I can tell you is that I will never leave you again." He looked down at himself and then up again with a half-smile. "No matter where I wind up," he added.

"It's not that. Or maybe it is? It's just, I think I am still... grieving. I still feel like this is all surreal and that i'm going to wake up in my room back in Metropolis alone, and this will have been the only place my only wish came true. In my dreams."

He didn't say anything. He just watched her, his thumb soothing over the ball of her ankle, and let her express all the jumbled emotions inside of her. Then he stood up and moved closer. He brushed her tears away and pressed his lips to her forehead. He stayed that way for a long moment, until he felt her relax under his touch. Then, with another one of his half-smiles, he reached back behind his neck and lifted something over his head. Then, he placed it around her neck and took her hands in his.

"This is a pretty awesome dream," he said finally. "The only thing that makes it better is that it's coming true." He kissed her hands and then her cheek. "I'll be back for this," he said, pointing to her chest. Then he slipped out onto the balcony.

When she looked down, she realized that he had found a chain to wear his wedding band on underneath his suit. In the dark, the simple, white gold band caught very little light, except on the inside, where the glimmer made her aware of text inscribed into the metal: _We have hope_

Curious, she slipped hers off her finger, reaching blindly over to the lamp and turning it on. When she saw inside of hers, relief washed through her, rinsing away the remains of her confused emotions. _We have forever_ was inscribed in the solid inner part of her ring.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

The slight rush of wind blowing through the curtains was her only response.

* * *

Tuesday came way too soon. They packed up to fly back home (on a plane) with wistful, sad smiles on their faces. On Sunday morning, she woke up to breakfast in bed. Clark looked the way he always looked after a night of saving the world: kind of tired, but the sort of tired that comes with being truly happy and satisfied. They fed eachother bites from their platesShe asked him if she'd see him on the news this morning, and he shook his head. "No... there was something happening that's... way beyond classified."

She arched an eyebrow and reached for her journal, but he just smiled and shook his head. "Next time, Mrs. Lane Kent."

She rolled her eyes, but she still flushed a little bit.

He grinned that annoyingly charming smile of his. "You know you're not tired of it yet."

She glared instantly. "Don't. Start."

"What'd I do? Hey!" he said as she smeared his bite of pancake and sticky syrup all over his face. "Alright, Uncle. Uncle!" he laughed as she smacked his chest and then smeared his face again, setting their plates aside and advancing on him with sticky fingers. Instead of attacking again, which she expected, she licked the syrup away from his lips and chin.

On Monday they spent the day on the beach. When the lifeguards weren't looking, he took her far into the ocean, so far she couldn't even see the beach anymore, and she sat on him like floatie while he drifted on his back. She marveled at the fish and at the blue of the water, impossibly deep below her, until they got cold. Then he brought her back and they watched the sunset over the water, and then he took her out and they painted the small tourist town red.

Now they were saying goodbye to their time in the sun, and Clark seemed particularly quiet.

She watched him for a moment, pausing in the middle of folding up a sarong. "Clark?"

"It's nothing," he said immediately. "It's probably stupid."

"Not if it's making you like this," she answered.

He looked at her then, his eyes imploring and shining with tears of pain. "All of those people... _died..._ I can't shake the guilt. I still feel like what happened at the capitol building was my fault." He clenched his jaw. "I should have been able to stop that bomb. Did they forgive me? Did they forget? What happened when I was gone? Do they even want me back?"

Lois nodded in understanding, putting down her clothes and sitting next to him. She took his hands and squeezed them. "I know you didn't cause that. Clark—look at me," she whispered. "They _know_ you didn't cause that."

The space between his eyebrows crinkled in confusion. "What? How?"

"In light of LexCorp's... _involvement..._ in the creation of the monster, they launched an investigation into a lot of things that Lex Luthor was involved in. I... did some investigating on my own. When those investigations were reopened, I submitted my evidence to the Department of Homeland Security. Would you like to read my case notes?"

"What—?" Then he was angry, but only briefly. "Damn it, Lois, why would you put yourself in danger like that?! You—" He stood and took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. "You didn't have to do that," he ended, his voice soft again.

"I did," she answered. "I needed to understand what happened that day in Africa. I wanted to understand why things were going so horribly wrong. You know that I found a bullet in my journal from Nairomi. I had it analyzed. That same metal was used to build Wally Keefe's wheelchair. The one with the _bomb_ in it."

Clark's eyes widened.

"Do you know what else was in it? Lead. Thick, medical grade lead."

His face darkened as he realized what she was saying. "LexCorp lined that thing with lead so I wouldn't be able to see inside. They killed all those people in that village before I even got there, and then..."

She nodded. "And then when I found out about it, it was a win-win for Luthor. Either you would come and save me, and in doing so fall into his lure, or I would fall to my death and my evidence would go with me."

He swallowed, his mind completely rejecting the second half of her sentence. Letting Lois die was never an option.

"I want to show you my case notes, and I want to show you what has been released so far by the DOHS. You need to see that this was far beyond your control." She stood up and wrapped her arms around him. "Do you know why I love you?"

"Why?" he asked, letting himself relax into her embrace, swaying them both lightly.

"It's not because you have cool superpowers, or any of that. I love you because you are more human than anyone I've ever met. There will always be people you couldn't save, things that were out of your control. But you knew this too and you still did your best to be a light everywhere you went. Now they know this. You are someone that will always symbolize hope to them. Even when there's no reason to have any."

He crushed her against him, holding her tightly. "Thank you."

* * *

They spent Tuesday and Wednesday in, doing things they only did when they first started dating. It was a wonderful way to continue reconnecting,

Thursday, Perry called, asking her to please cover a formal event—a fundraiser gala for the Metropolis School of Fine Arts. "I know I promised you the week off, but I need you to cover this for me, Lois. Bring Clark with you and consider it an all-expenses-paid date if you want."

Clark was already in the corner teasing her, pulling out first a suit, and then one of her evening dresses, mouthing both times to her if he looked okay. Then he pulled out another one and pretended to scrutinize himself in the mirror, stifling his laughter as he did so. She glared at him in response. "Fine," she said. "Only because I get to show him off."

"She said that backwards," Clark said, loud enough for Perry to hear.

"Does he always...?"

"Yes. Yep. Now hang up so that I can find something to wear. I can't believe you're springing this on us last second. Also, since you're paying for our date, we're both working so you're going to have to pay us both."

"What? He's not even back on payroll yet. He's not even an employee right now!"

"I don't care. Figure it out. We're both going, we're both working. And you owe me." She tossed her cellphone on the bed and turned to Clark. "You don't... actually mind, do you?"

He shook his head, still grinning at her reactions. "I get to show you off," he said innocently.

"Very funny."

"Not at all. I have a new, very beautiful, very irkable wife I'd like to show off to the world."

"Irkable," she grumbled. He laughed, pulling his tee shirt over his head and then unbuckling his jeans. She softened as she watched him. "I'm happy to see you like this," she said to him.

He didn't answer, but he tugged her into the shower with him.

An hour later, Clark was fully dressed in a classic suit and bowtie, hair slicked to the side, his bright blue eyes fixed on the television, where they were reporting on relocation efforts in the disaster area of Russia, where he and the Justice League had defeated that so-called Steppenwolf.

Lois was still looking for a dress. She'd done her hair in a stylish, messy, off-centered updo and done her make up, but was standing inside the closet in nothing but stockings and high heels, grumbling to herself.

Clark eventually decided that watching her made for a much better show.

Finally, a half hour after he sat down on the bed, she emerged from the closet in a dress with white lace details in the bodice and a color that was somewhere between gold and champagne and shimmered in the dim light. The flowing material showed her shape off beautifully and the almost-hip-high slit in the side made Clark gawk like a horny teenager.

"Why have I never seen this dress?" he rasped.

"I just... I don't know. I never needed it?"

Clark rolled his eyes, but stood anyway and pulled her into his arms, pressing light kisses to her neck and cheeks. "That is false, but whatever. You're absolutely stunning."

She laughed at him. "Thank you," she said. I'm ready, let's go."

He nodded, offering her his arm. They left the apartment together, laughing and talking like long time friends. He opened the door for her and she smiled brightly, which turned into a delighted laugh as he decided to scoop her up and carry her bridal style all the way outside.

* * *

There was a black limousine waiting for them, and a driver was holding the door open for them. Clark simply slipped inside with her on his lap, grinning at her protests. He held her safely in his arms until they arrived, and she curled against him happily, grateful for the safety she felt in his arms and the overwhelming affection she felt from him as he held her. They didn't say much during the ride. Their conversation was replaced with the simple ease of just being near eachother. Eventually, Lois spoke. "You were wrong," she said quietly.

"What do you mean?" Clark said, his voice barely above a murmur.

"You said, 'no one stays good in this world.' You were wrong."

He didn't answer. "Do you believe that I did?"

"Yes."

"Even though... even though I was willing to kill Batman?"

"Even then."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"Because I would have killed him if I had to."

"You didn't have to."

"Well, no."

"Then, by your own logic, you stayed good."

He acquiesced. "I guess... I suppose I did."

"You saved the world. I would say that would make up for whatever convoluted guilt you still have going on up there."

He arched an eyebrow. "Convoluted guilt?"

"Yes."

"How is it convoluted?"

"Because it doesn't make sense, and you didn't do anything wrong. You saved your mother AND you saved the world. You _died_ for it. Even though this world didn't understand you, mistrusted you, even hated you, for a while, you still willingly and knowingly sacrificed everything to save it. Why?"

He thought about that night, and about his final thoughts as he looked into her eyes. "Because I love you," he finally said. "The world doesn't make sense without you in it."

She looked up at him and smiled. "Likewise, Clark Kent."

They arrived at an opulent hotel in the heart of the city, the entrance filled with impressive pillars and skylights in the high ceilings. It was a beautiful atrium and the people there were all dressed elegantly, even those that didn't seem to be attending this gala.

Clark looked around, his eyes narrowed. "Hmm." His hand went to her waist, but the way he pulled her against him was a gesture of protection.

"What?"

"Where's the gala? There's no press, and no carpet. Normally we'd have to wait with the press to go in."

Lois looked around, startled. "You're right. Is this... the right place?"

"It... oh." He let out a sigh that ended in a chuckle. "Come on. This is the right place. It was supposed to be... well, you'll see."

"See what?"

"At least one of us should still be surprised." He led her up a staircase and to the left, where there was an elevator. He pressed forty-third floor B, which led to an equally opulent ballroom, with a balcony space that offered a view over the city toward the harbor. There were ample skylights in the room and ambient lighting that made the space seem like they were floating above the city.

The first thing Lois noticed wasn't all of this, or the décor; it was the table with the large wedding cake in the corner and the sign that read "Mr. And Mrs. Clark Kent reception. Congratulations!" in elegant, gold foil script.

"What the..."

"Surprise." The voice that spoke in her ear was Perry's.

"What? How on earth...?"

"You apparently have friends in high places." From across the room, Bruce Wayne raised a glass of scotch toward them in a long-distance toast. Soon, others turned in their direction. Clark recognized Arthur Curry, his hair slicked back and secured into a low bun and a white button up with the sleeves rolled up and the top button undone. To his right, The rest of the League, save for Victor, was appropriately suited up in formal wear, except Diana who was wearing a dark red high-low dress and gold jewelry. They all raised their glasses too.

Clark shook his head, smiling. Lois was gaping at all of them in shock. "What..."

"Welcome to your wedding reception. We've sent for your families as well, and some of your friends."

"Alfred," Clark said, extending his hand in a warm handshake.

"Mrs. Kent," Alfred said with a shallow bow.

"I am glad to see you again."

By then, the rest of the league had assembled around them. Diana, who had met her before, leaned forward and kissed both of her cheeks lightly. "You look lovely," she said with a happy smile, "Absolutely stunning!"

"I—thank you," she answered. "Thanks for coming, all of you."

Arthur tipped his head in a nod. "Good to see you, Clark. Mrs. Clark," he said with a smile that was equally charming and sarcastic. "I don't believe we've met. I would remember that."

"Very funny," Clark said flatly.

Arthur just shrugged. "It's your fault we've never been introduced. Arthur Curry."

"Mrs. Clark," Lois answered sassily, and he laughed. "I like her." Then he walked away, toward the open bar. Lois looked at her husband and they both shrugged.

"Excuse his terrible manners. Most of his friends are fish. Well, at least he has those, I guess. Friends, I mean. I'm Barry, hi. Nice to meet you, really. You guys are... perfect together. Congratulations. I hope stuff ends well for you guys. I mean, well, you know what I mean."

Clark just laughed. "You have friends too," he said gently, to which Barry smiled.

"None as pretty as your bride."

"Yes, none as pretty as her," Clark agreed cheekily, causing her to send him a warning glare. Barry laughed at their display and then excused himself awkwardly.

After that, Lois's sister descended on them, fiery, dark red hair and stormy eyes framed with dark lashes, Lucy Lane looked a lot like her older sister, although she'd lost the majority of the innocence that Lois's face had retained somehow. She kissed her sister's cheeks and then looked over Clark with an appreciative eye. "So this is the infamous Clark Kent? Hmm," she said. Then she stretched out her hand. "Lucy Lane, I'm sad I haven't met you sooner. Sadder that I didn't meet you before Lo, here."

Clark arched an eyebrow but shook her hand. "Pleasure," he said.

"Believe me, the pleasure is all mine. You did good, Lo." Then she turned and headed for the bar, her hips swaying just so and causing Bruce's eyes to widen comically.

"So... that is my sister," Lois said awkwardly.

Clark glanced toward the bar. "Are you sure?"

"No," Lois said before she could think, and Clark burst into laughter.

She was still smacking his arm when Martha approached them, wrapping her arms around her son who greeted her with a huge, delighted smile. Lois had only seen him smile like that around her. "Mom," he said into her shoulder. "You're here?"

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world." She turned to Lois and wrapped her in a tight grip. "Thank you, dear," she said to the younger woman.

"Why?"

"My son is truly happy."

Lois looked at Clark and smiled. "So am I," she said finally.

Eventually, they made their way across the room, greeting people every few steps, until they reached Bruce. Clark just arched an eyebrow at him.

Bruce shrugged. "I'm not really a wedding person, but who doesn't like a party? And I think the two of you are definitely deserving of one." He tossed back the remainder of his scotch, and the bartender poured him another double. "Lois, you look lovely."

"Thank you," she said. "You didn't have to do all of this."

Bruce shrugged. "Again, who doesn't like a party?"

Clark frowned. "First you buy a whole bank to save my mother's house, and now you just... throw a party for our reception?"

Bruce stared into his scotch before looking out the glass doors of the balcony. "The thing I should have done, I didn't do. It was a simple thing, much simpler than planning a party or getting people to sell shares. I should have _listened_ to you, Clark. And I didn't."

"But you did. Sure, you were a bit stubborn about it," Clark said with a smirk, "but you did listen in the end, and that's how we managed to stop that thing. Together, and because of you. I could not have done it alone."

Bruce stayed silent.

"If you need to hear me say it, I hope you're less stubborn about listening this time around. _I don't. Blame you._ For any of it."

Bruce nodded, swallowing hard. Then he met his new friend's eyes, his own searching the emotions on the younger man's face. "You shouldn't blame yourself either. There were a lot of things none of us understood until much later."

Clark nodded. "I know. Lo showed me her notes."

"Then you know I got sucked into that game too." He heaved a heavy sigh, taking another large gulp of his scotch. "I wanted to make my part in this up to you, and to her," he said with a nod to Lois. "I saw what it did to her. I'm glad you're willing to put it behind us."

"I am. We're a team now." Clark reached out his hand, palm up.

Bruce took it, pulling him in for a one armed hug. "So we are. Friends?"

"So you like me now?" Clark joked.

"Not at all," Bruce answered with a grin. "Now get on the dance floor, you guys have a bunch of newlywed cutesy shit to do. Starting with a first dance."

A soothing guitar melody played, seemingly through the walls and from the ceiling. With a playful smile, Clark bent at the waist and offered his hand, which she took as he asked her for this dance.

He pulled her close as the first strains of the man's voice flowed over them, looking into her eyes as they danced and smiling.

 _You saw my pain washed out in the rain  
broken glass, saw the blood run from my veins  
But you saw no fault, no cracks in my heart  
and you knelt beside my hope torn apart._

As the words sunk into their minds, they both held each other just a bit tighter. Tears sprung into Lois's eyes, but Clark kissed them away, pulling her into a tighter embrace as they swayed gently.

 _But the ghosts that we knew  
will flicker from view  
and we'll live a long life._

 _So give me hope in the darkness  
So I will see the light  
'cause oh, they gave me such a fright_

Clark kissed the top of her head, his throat also tight. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

Lois looked up at him, her hands trailing up his arms and into his hair. "I know," she whispered.

They kissed.

 _And I will hold with all of my might  
just promise we will be alright_

 _And the ghosts that we knew  
left us black and all blue  
but we'll live a long life_

 _the ghosts that we knew  
will flicker from view  
and we'll live a long life._

* * *

 **thanks for reading.**

 **Gonna get through the legal crap quickly:**

 **1\. All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics and/or Warner Bros (not sure how that one worked out but the point is, I don't own that) and I'm not gaining anything by their use except for my own amusement, and hopefully, the entertainment of the reader.**

 **2\. The song in this story is "Ghosts That We Knew" by Mumford and Sons. I don't own any part of the music or the lyrics nor am I profiting from their use.  
Lyrics are courtesy of azlyrics dot com.**

 **Now that that's out of the way, thanks again for sticking around for this. Let me know what you think. Be sure to check me out with the same penname on Wattpad also, and let me know what you think about what's going on over there.**

 **Be sure to check out a series of BvS/JL one shots by a writer called** **JPHBK** **about the newly formed Justice League getting to know each other. They're pretty sweet and not badly written at all. I'm a fan.**

 **that's a wrap, y'all. Catch ya on the flip!  
~daisy**


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